


What I Wouldn't Give | Part One: The Right Fit

by flowerbeom



Series: What I Wouldn't Give [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Extreme Requited yet hidden love, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerbeom/pseuds/flowerbeom
Summary: A story where a heartsick, pining and ‘hopelessly in love with his stylist’ Jaebeom finds himself in an awkward situation in the house of the stylist who’s equally heart sick and hopelessly in love with him. But neither of them know… yet.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Original Female Character(s), Im Jaebum | JB/You
Series: What I Wouldn't Give [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994902
Kudos: 15





	What I Wouldn't Give | Part One: The Right Fit

**Author's Note:**

> Please do enjoy soft, nervous Jae - one of his stronger forms.  
> Song Mood: Sunny Days, Summer Nights by Sam Kim

You had always hated the title ‘Junior Stylist’. You hated the instant prejudice you would see in someone’s eye when you were introduced, as if you couldn’t hold a candle to someone ‘ _senior_ ’. You knew your skills were bar none and your eye for detail would be the very thing that would solidify your place in this industry. So, you were patient, working under creative directors and doing scut work until your fingers bled just so you would be seen; seen as worthy. 

And one day, you got it; you got your chance. You were pulled aside by the department lead and told you had been assigned to a debuting rookie group and their leader. Working in a small team, you would lead their style direction for the duration of their contract. They would be your avenue to explore your artistry, and he would be your canvas. But Im Jaebeom proved to be a challenge; to dress and for your heart. 

—–

**Era: Girls Girls Girls**

“Just put the damn jacket on, Jaebeom.” a face to face standoff played out in the middle of the dressing room, a clenched fist crushed the leather jacket in your hand; Jaebeom squaring you down. Hands lazily resting in his pockets, he tilted his head; the narrow in his eyes mirroring yours. Everyone had cleared the room only to leave Jackson sitting in the corner, mildly entertained by the stalemate he stole glances of over the top of his phone. 

“It’s not really my style.” Jaebeom sneered, smoothing an index finger over the sharp edge of his jaw. Closing the space between you, your eyebrow quirked when Jaebeom’s guard broke for a second; his eyes jolting open, neck flaring - your closeness rattling him momentarily. 

“Okay, _leader-nim_ , let’s see what JYP’s opinion on the matter would be.” He forced his tongue through gritted teeth, chin jutting out; vexed. 

Shoving the garment into his tensed torso, you paused, “Or..” swallowing down the lump your heart had thrown into your throat, “You can put on the jacket.” 

He scoffed, visibly impressed with your tenacity but annoyed all the same. Hand quick to grip your wrist, his eyes wavered; darting from your intense stare to his hand back to your eyes. The sudden shot of electricity that passed through both of you knocked you both out of your stupor, Jaebeom quickly pulling the jacket from your grasp while you stumbled back, shoving both your hands into your back pockets. 

“You-you know, it’s not that.. Bad. I mean.. It’s okay.” Jaebeom stuttered, pressing down the collar, staring at himself in the mirror to avoid staring at you. Drawing in a deep breath before stepping to him, you arranged the jacket to sit better on his broad shoulders. 

“Seriously, are you for real…. “ Bewildered with the distance your hands had to travel to smooth out the jacket you failed to hear Jaebeom throw a question your way. Still playing with the jacket, you missed his voice again before he spun around, leaving your hands to rest on his collar bones, his face far too close for comfort. 

“What?” 

“Huh?” Shaken, you snapped your hands away from him, stepping back. 

“Before, you said was I “for real”, what was that all about?” Words catching in your throat, Jaebeom’s fingers fiddled with the zip on his jacket, eyes softer than before. 

“I– ahh, well..” Your hand buried into your nape, rubbing the back of your neck as if it’d provide the right answer. 

“Two minute call!” Both your heads whipped to the door, the runner poking in to get the boys to head to the stage. Your eyes slowly met, unspoken words hung in the air; his knuckles brushing over yours as he stepped past you, both your breath hitching at the touch. _Fuck_. 

—–

**Era: Just Right**

Watching the performance from the dressing room, Jaebeom’s smile seem to radiate through the television; the joy it exuded filled your chest with a warmth you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it felt comforting. Unlike their previous comebacks, this one was lighter, filled with zest and cheer and dressing them as such was enjoyable to say the least. 

You debated how far you could take the concept, and how irritated Jaebeom would be as you made him try on outfit after outfit; but the utter look of happiness on their faces as they performed live was enough to quell those doubts. 

You hadn’t noticed just how widely you were smiling, or how your shoulders were bopping to the music that swirled around the room. Hana watched you from the side, analysing your face as she steamed a shirt. 

“What are you giggling about?” Pulled from your trance, you turned to your assistant; her quirked eyebrow enough to draw a sigh from your mouth. Your smile had dropped.

“It’s a fun song.” Picking up a shirt, you folded it carefully; placing into the crate, packing up to leave.

“We both know it’s not the song.” You wanted to slap the smirk off her face. “It’s Jaebeom.”

“What?!” 

“What what?! Tell me you don’t like him.” You wanted to slap her, smirk or not. Hana put down the steamer and caught your wrists before your hands could muzzle her. 

“Shhhh, shut up. What are you talking about? Stop it.” You were shaking, completely unprepared to be called out. 

“Ever since you put him in ripped jeans and a bomber jacket you’ve had heart eyes for the guy. Your ears prick when you hear his voice and you can smell his cologne from a hundred metres away. I swear I can hear your heart thump when he stands next to you.” You had lowered your hands, shoving them in your pockets; your lips were screwed into your cheek. You had nothing to say. 

“Have nothing to say?” Hana poked a finger into your shoulder. She was right. You had denied it when feelings for him started to stir in your gut and slapped down butterflies that flitted too closely to your heart. Jaebeom had etched his name onto your skin every time he grazed you, and you had lost the fight not to let it happen. 

“Let’s just pack up, okay.” Hana saw the acceptance in your eyes and said no more. But it wasn’t going to stop her from pushing you tell him how you feel, one day. Could be a day way off in the distance, but one day. 

—–

**Era: New Era**

Dinner. Dinner was all that was on Jaebeom’s mind as he exited the elevator. Yours on the other hand was figuring out how to not lose your job. The stress that wreaked havoc on your face was enough to strip any thoughts of food when Jaebeom found you curled into yourself as he entered the hotel lobby. Back pressed to the wall, knees pressed to your chest, heel of your palm pressed to your forehead, phone pressed to your ear. 

Jaebeom crouched down in front of you, placing a timid hand on your knee to bring your eyes up to his. The crease between your eyebrows didn’t soften, but only transferred to etch between his. 

“Yep, yep - no, I understand. Yes.. yes. I’ll figure it out.” Hanging up the call, you placed your phone on the ground before burying your face into your hands. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaebeom’s voice was sweet, stained with concern and helped you breathe again. Pulling your hands down your face, you met Jaebeom’s eyes; his gentle, yours bloodshot. 

“The crate. The crate with all your clothes for this entire week of schedules. No one knows where it is. It’s not in Seoul. It’s not here. For all we know it fell off the plane mid transit and got eaten by a whale. No one knows!“ You were rambling, and Jaebeom listened, kindly; intently. Your face returned to pool into your shaking palms, an exhausted groan muffled into your skin. 

“Argh, I have to go out and buy an entirely new wardrobe tonight. I have to practically stampede around Tokyo flashing credit cards like a crazy person. And Hana isn’t even here to help. What am I going to do?” Violently raking your fingers through your hair, you slapped your phone off the ground.

“I’ll come with you. I’ll help.” Eyes shooting up, sincerity was all that was painted on Jaebeom’s face. Holding out his hand, you gingerly took it; letting him help you stand. 

“Wh-why?” The question trembled off your lips before they haphazardly blew back the hair that had fallen over your face. Jaebeom tried his best not to giggle, composing himself with a hand rubbed under his nose. 

Trying not to risk sounding cheesy by sprouting out a line like “I don’t like seeing you stressed” or “I’d drop anything to help you out, because I just want to see you smile again”, despite it all being true, Jaebeom opted for reason.

“I have to make sure things go well. Fix problems, solve dilemmas, save the world. Leader things, you know.” 

And trying not to seem desperate by saying something like “I was hoping you’d say that” or “You’re the only one I need right now”, despite it all being true, you opted for logic. 

"Sounds good to me.” 

The static that buzzed between you as you explored Harajuku was palpable. The little knocks of hands against hands, or brushes of shoulders against shoulders drowned words in your throats and striped air from your lungs. The stolen looks over clothes racks and hidden smiles behind turned backs kept the thought of possible unemployment far from your mind as Jaebeom insisted on carrying every bag and constantly reassured you that everything was going to be okay. 

And it was, because he was with you. He even bought dinner. 

—–

**Era: Lullaby**

No one, not even Mark with his acrobatics or Bambam with his five hundred diverse dabs a day, could rip through their pants as well as Jaebeom could. Whether it was the inner stitching on the thigh, or the buttons that held it all together, you were always sewing up his pants back stage. 

At one point it stopped being annoying and became somewhat therapeutic. The small embarrassed smile on Jaebeom’s face as he handed over another pair of pants to repair was enough to bring the quiet joy you needed to sit in the corner and pull out a needle and thread. The simple offering of his sincere apology as he bit his lip was payment enough, no matter how many times he offered to buy you bubble tea for your efforts. Though you always found one tucked behind your bag before you left for the night. 

But alas, his pants still needed fixing and that’s exactly where you found yourself, sitting cross legged in the corner; hunched over a pair of black trousers, one headphone wedged in your ear. Singing along quietly to their new album as you pulled thread carefully through fabric; your fingers worked skilfully to fix Jaebeom’s mishap.

“Hyung, you’re staring.” Jaebeom sighed as he tipped his temple to rest against the door frame, Jinyoung meeting his side; handing him an iced coffee. 

“I know.” Replying through an exhale, he sunk lower into the door frame; lifting the straw to his lips. 

“She’s just sewing on a button.” Matter of fact, Jinyoung spoke before taking a sip of his chai latte. 

“Exactly, she’s _just sewing on a button_ and I can’t stop staring.” Jinyoung cupped Jaebeom’s shoulder, a reassuring grip of his fingers made Jaebeom drop his head back. Peeling himself off the door frame, he spun on his heels; walking away from the room, away from you. 

“Are you ever going to tell her?” Jinyoung queried, hand still resting on Jaebeom’s shoulder. 

“No..” Jaebeom’s face slowly crumpled.

“No?” Jaebeom winced further at Jinyoung’s sharp tone.

“As if I could…” Unwilling to argue, Jinyoung merely offered Jaebeom a consoling pat on the back. There was no use debating the issue with him, he would simply deny the possibility of you ever loving him back; even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. 

—– 

**Era: Focus On Me**

You kept stealing glances from across the room. Straight back, head down, eyes burrowed into a book; Jaebeom had read for most of the day. Saved for the moments he spent with a make-up brush in his face, or limbs sliding into clothes you had curated for him; Jaebeom willingly lost himself in the world found on those pages, rather than the anxiety swirling in his mind. 

Lingering looks from over your shoulder were enough for Hana to flick your forehead with a harsh snap of her middle finger. Her pursed lips and narrow eyes drew you from your longing and back onto the earrings you were fiddling with. A violent shake of your head knocked you into focus.

“Jaebeom-ah, can you– “ Holding the earrings in the palm of your hand, you turned to step to him; the wide expanse of his back momentarily distracting you; your step faltered before continuing to approach him. 

“Hmm, huh?” Looking down at the book cradled in his gentle hands, you saw no less than ten pages left for him to finish, and upon tilting your head to look into his eyes, you saw them furiously scanning the text; his face blank with fixation. 

You debated doing what you were about to, knowing you would regret it the second you touched him. Knowing how fast your heart would race, and how red your ears would turn; but call time was approaching and you needed him to be ready. Swallowing down a shaky breath, you tipped at the hip; leaning down to his shoulder. 

“I’ll just put these on for you, okay. Finish your book.” Merely a whisper, said too close to his ear; your breath fanned across his skin and you thought you heard him hitch. Taking his earlobe gently between your fingers, you swore you saw him flinch, his body tensing at the sudden touch. 

Holding the pin of the earring, you gripped his ear slightly tighter, “Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you.” Jaebeom slowly exhaled, his body leaning back into the chair. You could feel your heartbeat on your skin; goosebumps pricked your arms and you were thankful your sleeves were hiding them. What you didn’t notice were the hairs on Jaebeom’s neck standing, or the vein in his temple flaring, or that he has stopped reading all together. 

After securing one earring, you put on another; spinning them so they sat just right. You also didn’t notice Jaebeom staring at you in the mirror, his eyes following you as you rounded the chair to place earrings onto his other ear. You were too busy trying to breathe.

You had been close before, but this, this was _intimate_. You wanted to run, sprint into a closet and cower in the corner because you hated how much he affected you. _Be professional._ Yes, but it was hard when the person you worked with had your heart in his hand. 

“Two minutes!” You and Jaebeom whipped your heads to the door, the runner amused at this common occurrence. You stepped back, allowing Jaebeom to push back his chair. He slipped his arms into the jacket Hana held out for him and turned to the mirror. Eyeing the earrings you had ever so gently placed on him, his thumb lifted to slide down the chain of one of them and smiled before catching your eye in the mirror. 

He left the room not nearly quick enough for you to catch your breath, humming to himself and singing as he trailed down the hall. Hana was by your side and screwing an elbow into your waist before you could bring yourself down from the cloud his smile put you on. 

“So, are you going to let him?” Forehead creasing, eyebrow cocked; your face met hers with confusion. 

“Have you not listened to him this entire time?” Leaning against the make-up bench, Hana crossed her arms, one finger tapping impatiently against her forearm.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Are you going to let him? _Let him love you_?” Your hands slapped onto the chair in front of you and pushed it violently into Hana’s knees. She cursed and you cursed back, but she insisted that he was singing to you. That this entire debut, unit, album was him trying to confess to you. 

Ludicrous, improbable, utterly absurd; but as you watched him on the waiting room television, you entertained the notion for a second. That the way he was staring into the camera was how he wanted to stare at you. But you slapped yourself before you fell into that fantasy; hard enough for Yugyeom to ask what happened to your cheek when they came back. 

—– 

**Era: Eclipse**

**[12:21pm]  
Y/N Stylist:  
**What bet did you lose? 

**[12:22pm]  
Jaebeom-Ssi:**  
What do you mean?! I look good!

 **[12:25pm]  
Y/N Stylist:**  
1.That beret is for Bam’s Allure shoot. 2. I’m not even going to ask how you got it out of storage. 3. You look like an idiot.

 **[12:31pm]  
Jaebeom-Ssi:**  
Perhaps. But I made you forget about that asshole from Div 3, didn’t I? Humour me, I totally rock it better than Bam.

 **[12:52pm]  
** Y/N Stylist:  
Have a safe flight, Beom. 

Safe in the knowledge that he made you smile, Jaebeom slid his phone back into his pocket. Leaning back into his seat, he stretched his arms out; yawning as his muscles loosened before Mark slipped in beneath his arm. Nuzzling into Jaebeom’s side, Mark smiled cheekily as Jaebeom coiled his arm back, pushing him off playfully. 

“Excited to go home?” Mark cooed, Jaebeom raised a questioning brow. 

“We haven’t even left yet.”

“Yeh, but are you excited to come home?” Jaebeom’s face crumpled into confusion, mouth opening in question, palms up-turned: puzzled. 

“The wrap party, you idiot!” Mark jutted his shoulder into Jaebeom’s.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jaebeom sighed. “I’ve been called an idiot too many times today. But why are you talking about the wrap party now?” 

“Y/N.” Whispered, a little too closely into Jaebeom’s ear. Jaebeom’s silence edged Mark on. 

“Y/N will be there.” Mark smirked watching Jaebeom’s eyes widen.

“Everyone will be there.” Jaebeom spat out, trying to mask the excitement that stirred in his stomach.

Mark shimmied in his seat, clearing his throat teasingly. “Y/N never comes to wrap parties. But suddenly she’s coming to this one.” 

“And?” Jaebeom cocked his head, cracking a single bone is his neck; not nearly enough to alleviate his tension. 

“She’ll be there, potentially all dressed up - having a drink or two, dancing - maybe dancing with you, if you ask her to, this could be your chance. Who knows-” Jaebeom cut him off, standing suddenly and ripping his bag off the seat. 

“Who knows if she’ll even be there. Come on, we have to board now.” Shaking his head through a laugh, Mark watched Jaebeom storm off, visibly irked by the notion of acting on any of his feelings. By now, everyone knew your shared pining had developed into deep seated, intense, full blown 'I’d risk it all for you’ love, but no one knew what exactly was taking you both so long to actually _risk it all_. Maybe all you needed was a nudge and a bit of liquid courage. 


End file.
